Bikram begins again.

Bikram this morning. My balance is coming, it’s very exciting. Even had a shower in the communal showers. I pretended that I looked like all the young women with their Brazilians. Even though I know I look like an old woman with a Mohican. Grocery shopping. Too much money for not a lot of stuff. … Read more

Lokshen – Jewish vermicelli

The alarm was set for 6.15 a.m. but none of us slept.
B was up first, then Gods Gift fell out of bed.
I had set out my funereal garb the night before but changed my plans when I felt the temperature. It was absolutely freezing.
The three of us left the flat and bumped into Simba the golden labrador and Paul. ‘You’re up early’ said Paul brightly.
‘We’re off to a funeral’ I said and tickled the dogs head.
We climbed into Jim’s car and set off just after 7.00

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BBC LONDON 94.9 for those of you who dont know where I am. I am doing my fourth show this Sunday with Toby Jones, the actor. You can call 020 7244 2000 I think thats the number, twitter me, facebook me or email me at [email protected] I have been up to me ears in paragraphs … Read more

Mid January Jaunt

I went down to post a letter. Took my little green stopwatch and decided to walk 30 minutes one way then half an hour the other.
I had on thick red socks and my Nike Free 3 trainers, so decided to walk the road. Everywhere was squelchy mud. Mud that sticks to your shoes, sucks in your feet and squeals about it.
The fields look scrappy and the moles have moved in.
It was an impromptu walk so I was ill prepared with the rest of my outfit. A pair of baggy pants, a vest a sweater and a VERY BIG fleece that came free with some oil from the garage.
It was cold but not cold enough for me to be uncomfortable.

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welcome home Nelly

Gods Gift is in London. The cat is stretched out on the back of the armchair. I have boxed up 29 years of telly videos ready to be transferred to CD’s. Saw the osteopath. Saw the homeopath. Made a big salad and averted my eyes from the television. I cannot eat when bad news is … Read more

St. Bride’s

London feels so different on a Saturday. Maybe it’s because I feel relaxed.
Although this morning I woke up having had a day yesterday.
I haven’t been in my Bikram studio for three days – death, life and mothers have seriously got in the way.
Three conversations and a visit from a family of four – all before 1.00 p.m – meant I had to put gel in my hair to make me look alive. By the time the clock had struck ‘News at One’ I was hoovering up biscuit crumbs.

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St. James tittle tattle

Felt quite like old times.
I left the flat at 9.15 prepared to walk into the centre of London.
I hadn’t banked on the the temperature. I only had on nine items of clothing.
Two socks. Two trainers. One knicker. One trouser. One bra. One t-shirt. I duvet type jacket that leaves goose down on everything. When I take it off it looks like I’ve been plucked.
By the time I reached Battersea Bridge I wished I had opted for four more bits of clothing. One hat, One scarf and two gloves.

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sense of humour meltdown

From funeral parlours to social workers. From too many bagels to rose tubor baths. from too much chat. Too much noise. To not enough space. Missed Bikram today but at least my mother is ok. There are funny stories surrounding all this but at the moment I have lost my sense of humour, it’s in … Read more

Wheres the wolf?

Drove to Hertfordshire.
Took my seat on the green settee whilst four of us were talked through an average, common or garden, British funeral.
Four thousand pounds later four of us were at each others throats.
From limos to hearses from flowers to coffins the whole thing is a bloody rip off. Thanks to Harold Shipman doctors now make nearly two hundred quid out of registering somebody’s death.
If I weren’t already anti-authoritarian, after today I pigginwell would be.

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